


Only The Toes Knows

by Scavenge4Dreams



Series: Heartfelt and Otherwise [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Schmoop, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 11:41:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scavenge4Dreams/pseuds/Scavenge4Dreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A habit, a secret and toes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only The Toes Knows

**Only The Toes Knows**

They hadn't been together long when it first started, perhaps only a matter of weeks. It wasn't after the first time they'd had sex, nor the first time Bones had asked him to stay the night after said sex. It had however, been after the first time that Jim had agreed to such request, discarding his attempts to retrieve his silk boxers from where they hung on the picture frame above McCoy's bed.

Standing resplendently naked over the pillow beside McCoy's head, balance perfect, despite the buoyant air pocket technology that the Starfleet brass employed in all cadet quarters, one hand halfway up the wall and the other resting gracefully against his hip, Jim should have looked every inch the confident, self-assured Kirk that everyone knew.

And he did…except for his eyes.

The stormy blue softened as they gazed down at Bones, passion, ever present, settling as insecurity, nervousness and hope blossomed, revealing the James Kirk that only Bones knew.

Unsureness warred for only an instant, and then he nodded, gracefully sinking back down onto the pillow, wariness evidenced by his unnatural stillness and untouchable distance.

Because his staying was what enabled the other to leave, as a rule, he never got too close, never got close at all….but, this….this was _Bones._

And so he stayed.

They'd been friend first, which in and of itself was unusual for Jim, another rule, don't befriend who you sleep with…another point of distance,  _don't get too close._

Technically though, he hadn't really broken that rule, after all, they'd been friends  _before_  sleeping together. _  
_

It had been obvious right from the start that Bones wasn't interested in mere friendship, no matter how deep or extraordinary, he wanted more… _he wanted it all, everything._

Bones had wanted more than Jim had been willing to give… _at first._

He didn't want a fuck buddy, he wanted more than just a friend with benefits…he had all the access to one night stands a man might need… _he just wanted Jim, wholly and irrevocably._

And eventually, Jim had come to understand this, to trust it… _trust Bones,_ hence leading them to the situation they were in the wee hours of that morning… _to stay, or go?_

To get too close…and then be pulled even closer?

Bones had shaken his head ruefully at Jims obvious hesitancy, but said nothing, knowing that Jim had to make this decision alone, the last step to getting what he wanted… _all of Jim, always._

Finally Jim had reached across the distance from where he was scrunched up on the opposite pillow and allowed Bones's larger, yet finitely gentle hand to grasp his own finely boned fingers.

And so he stayed.

That was the night it had begun, and it had continued every night since.

5 years, 260 weeks, 1820 nights, give or take.

1820 nights spent in the same bed, be it the Doctor's, the Captain's or some other bed entirely.

1820 nights spent locked in embrace, tangled in passion and immersed in… _love._

_1820 nights of domesticated bliss._

And it had happened every single night, 1820 times…give or take.

Jim could spend the night caught up in his lover's possessive embrace, after nearly losing his life in another harebrained, yet somehow useful event during the days before. Jim on his stomach, arms and legs spread in only the calmest of sleep, Bones draped over the majority of his body, the weight nothing more than a firm reminder of what Bones stood to lose should Jim  _not_  succeed one day.

Still  _it_  would happen.

Jim could latch onto Bones with a desperation borne of emotional distress. McCoy on his back, one arm around Jims waist, the others fingertips just brushing a pale cheek, as the younger man lay half beside him and half on him, arm curled around bones shoulder and face hidden in the crook of Bones's neck.

Still  _it_  would happen.

Fury, stemming from whatever misjudgement, one ones behalf, and stinging, scathing guilt on the other, carrying over into the sleep of those who love despite the anger and remorse. Rage and shame belied by glancing touches and self-assuring nudges. The guilty party, evidenced by the tightly coiled body, facing away from the other, hand tucked to his chest as though undeserving. Then the angry partner, back turned, body stiff and rigid even in sleep, yet one foot, connecting him to his partner pushing the message… _I will forgive you…just give it time._

Still  _it_  would happen.

The best nights, thankfully the majority, after calm, non-eventful days. Both on their right side, Bones's larger body creating the frame to Jim's smaller interior picture. Jim's arms tucked up beneath his face and Bones's around Jim's waist. One of Jim's legs pushed back between Bones's, calm, peaceful and present.

Still  _it_  would happen.

Every night Bones would become restless just after 3am, and every night he'd get up, use the facilities, have a glass of water, check his comm for medical emergencies and then go back to bed…back to Jim, usually in the exact same position as the one he had left, unless his midnight jaunt somehow altered his mood, and then he might adopt a different position.

As far as Bones could tell, his movement never woke Jim.

It was during this five minute period every night that  _it_ happened.

He got out of bed, and as always  _it_  was sticking out from below the blankets.  _It_  of course being one surprisingly small foot, pale pink adorned with 5 delicate toes.

And so every night, as he got out of bed, Bones would gently grasp the slim ankle and slide the foot back beneath the warmth of the blankets.

He'd then go about his ministrations, before returning to the bed.

Where once again,  _It_  would be out from under the blanket. Again, Bones would move Jims foot back under the covers, before getting in himself, usually wrapping himself around his smaller lover in one way or another.

Every night it was the same, twice Bones saw the foot was out, and twice he put it back.

3640 times over the past 5 years.

He didn't do it because of the chill factor in the room, at least not most of the time.

He did it purely because it was one way he could show love that Jim Kirk couldn't argue against, decide he was unworthy or refute. Mainly because Jim didn't know.

_Except that he did. And he knew what it meant._

The first time it had happened, Jim had startled a little when Bone's hand had grasped his ankle, but the reassuring touch that ran over his calf and the soothing murmur whispered into the dark silence. Then he felt his foot gently replaced under the cover.

Before Jim could make sense of what had happened, Bones was already into the bathroom, and sliding his footy back out, Jim decided to wait until he came back to tell him that he preferred to have his foot in the cool night air. Except that he was so exhausted, both physically and emotionally, that by the time Bones came back, Jim was dead asleep, he did not even feel the hand gently put his foot back under the blanket.

And so it went on, each night, Jim's foot would be out and Bones would put it back, twice. Each night Jim swore to tell Bones that he hated having both feet covered, but the second night he once again fell asleep, and the third he had forgotten by the time Bones got of the impromptu call with the med centre. By the fourth night, Jim started to feel that if he said anything, Bones would know that Jim had been awake every time, and hadn't told him that he didn't like what Bones was doing…to Jim, it almost seemed like a form of lying, and so he let it be, hating the suffocation feeling of having both feet covered, but unable to hurt Bones's feelings.

And so it went on, each and every night, with Bones doing it out of love, and Jim loving it if he would just forget, except Bones never did.

Then after 5 years, things changed.

Bones still covered his foot every night, and Jim still stuck it back out, only now it wasn't to escape the blanket, but rather so Bones _would_ put it back under.

Jim had finally realised that Bones never  _covered his foot_ with the blanket, but instead always  _moved his foot_ under the blanket.

Bones  _always_  touched  _him_  rather than the blanket. Because he loved Jim, and knew that one of Jim's vulnerabilities was that having never had anyone truly love and care for him…he wasn't sure he deserved it. …and so Bones proved to him in his own way that  _he_ loved and cared for Jim,  _every night and always_  …and Jim loving Bones…had learned to love Bones covering his foot too.

And hoping that Bones would continue his nightly ritual, demonstrating his love, Jim started his own.

Every night, when Bones returned to bed after having put Jim's foot back twice, Jim, still under the pretence of being mostly asleep, would seek Bones's hand with his own, and upon finding it, would pull Bones so his lover was almost on top of him, the hand within his grasp clutched to his chest as he basically snuggled into Bones, effectively fulfilling McCoy's biggest need.

The need to simply be needed.

And he was needed…by Jim… _forever and always._

 


End file.
